


Something Old, Something New

by Loz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Scott McCall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz/pseuds/Loz
Summary: "So handsome,” Scott murmurs, dragging his fingers down Stiles’ front. He’s mesmerised by the tease of warm skin beneath the cotton.“So uncomfortable,” Stiles counters.“You’re the one who insisted we dress up.”





	

They fall into the room together, giggling. It was an incredible day, full of friends and family. But they’re alone again, finally, and Scott wants to make the most of it. He kisses a line over Stiles’ neck, sucks a hickey into the soft, thin skin that blushes and bruises easily. It’ll be hard to hide, is too high to be concealed by a collar, but Stiles has no shame, will walk proudly into work in two days’ time, wallowing in the contradiction between pressed khaki and Scott’s mark on him. 

Scott pulls back so he can look Stiles up and down. He wants to savour this look one last time before stripping him bare. Stiles is wearing a perfectly tailored jacket, black shirt and silver bow tie. There’s a tiny sliver of a pocket square that’s silver and gray plaid. Trousers that fit impeccably, like they were molded onto his body. He’s buttoned up and formal in a way he’s only ever been in his uniform, and Scott wants to mess him up.

“So handsome,” Scott murmurs, dragging his fingers down Stiles’ front. He’s mesmerised by the tease of warm skin beneath the cotton.

“So uncomfortable,” Stiles counters. 

“You’re the one who insisted we dress up.”

“I wanted to see you in a suit again,” Stiles says. “I needed more imagery for my spank bank.”

Scott rolls his eyes, works at Stiles’ bowtie, his fingers trembling a little even as he mentally chastises himself for it. “I have no idea how you can look this charming but sound this filthy.”

“Hey, if you didn’t like it, you shouldn’t’ve married me.”

Scott leans in and kisses Stiles quiet. 

It almost feels too good to be true. He worries that at any moment he’ll wake up and it will have been a fever dream. But he knows that’s his past catching up with him, that it’s the anxiety he’ll never completely shake. He’s choosing to lean away from it, to not allow it to overshadow this moment, here. 

Stiles manages to push his hand up under Scott’s shirt as they kiss, stroking gently against Scott’s waist. It tickles in the best way, has all of Scott’s senses jumping. Stiles moans softly as he presses tighter into Scott, the sound rich and low. He pulls away from the kiss and then chases after it again as Scott undoes the buttons of his shirt. Like he wants to speak, but the allure of Scott’s lips is too great. Scott can’t help but smile every time Stiles captures him again.

“I kinda wanna kiss you all night,” Stiles says when they’re both topless, still standing in the center of their hotel room – their consolation that they aren’t going on honeymoon for six months because they both have work commitments. 

“We could do that,” Scott says, tilting Stiles’ jaw and kissing him again. 

“Might make some of the _other_ things I wanna do a bit difficult.”

“Let’s try it anyway.”

By the time Stiles is splayed out naked on the bed, Scott’s lips feel swollen. Stiles’ mouth is bright pink and pouty and there’s a blush stretching up his chest to the hollows of his cheeks. Scott shucks off his boxers and settles between the vee of Stiles’ legs, hands resting lightly on his knees. Stiles is already half-hard, dick leaking against his happy trail. He’s gazing up at Scott like he wants to be devoured.

“Are you just gonna stare at me?”

“Maybe.”

He expects Stiles to complain, to make demands, but Stiles maintains eye contact as he places his hands behind his head, gives a small, sweet smirk. Either he’s learning the power of least resistance, he’s underestimating Scott’s patience, or this is one of his wedding gifts. Scott benefits, regardless. He continues to enjoy the view, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of Stiles’ inner thighs.

It’s only when Stiles gives the smallest of wriggles that Scott launches into action. He rises up over Stiles’ body, holding himself up with one hand as he kisses him again. Stiles is gratifyingly surprised, giving a questioning hum. His other hand scrabbles in the nightstand for the lube. 

By the time Scott moves back again, they’re both fully hard. Scott decides to neglect his own cock in order to suck down Stiles’. He takes him deep, luxuriating in the sounds they’re both making. The wet, gulping slurps of his own throat, the choked groans of Stiles’. It feels good, having Stiles thick and heavy against his tongue, sucking him hard and hearing the reaction. Stiles stutters out half-words and variations on Scott’s name like they’re a litany. 

Scott pulls off with a wet pop, hikes Stiles’ lower body up more and gestures for a pillow. When he has Stiles arranged the way he wants, he begins to suck him off again, taking in as much of his dick as he physically can, slow the way Stiles claims he finds cruel, but which always has him coming with shocky tremors. Stiles fists a hand into his hair, not tugging, but holding on. 

Scott hollows his cheeks as he slides from tip to base again, cups Stiles’ balls, and can feel the jump of his thigh muscles as Stiles starts to whimper.

“Scotty, I’m gonna… I’m fuckin’ – oh God.”

Stiles comes, jetting into Scott’s mouth with jerks of his hips and Scott swallows it all, feeling very self-satisfied. He gentles Stiles through the aftershocks and watches him as he stretches his hands up and then places them under his head again, like he’s Scott’s to do with as he likes. 

Stiles gazes back at him, heavy-lidded. He already looks debauched. “Remember the whole kissing all night thing?” he says, voice a little hoarse.

“It was twenty minutes ago, so yes I do.”

“I was vastly underestimating the things you can do with your mouth, _fuck_.”

Scott laughs. “You feeling ready for phase two?”

Stiles bites his lower lip, pretends to consider it. “Yeah, all right.”

Scott spreads some lube on his fingers and begins to prep him. Stiles is more relaxed than usual and he starts to loosen with little persuasion. Scott rubs softly at his rim with his thumb as he adds another finger, obsessed with the stretch and the glint of metal from his rings juxtaposed with the pink plush.

“You’re just opening up for me,” Scott murmurs, watching his fingers dip in and out. “Greedy.”

“Always. Want you in me.”

“Greedy _and_ impatient. Of course.”

“You have spent a lot of tonight criticizing me and I’d like to point out that you were aware of all of this, none of this is new.”

Scott shakes his head, glances from the slide of his fingers back to Stiles’ eyes. “You’re mistaking observation for criticism. I love that you’re filthy and greedy and impatient. They’re some of my favorite things about you.” 

Stiles opens his mouth wide then closes it with a snap when Scott starts to stroke insistently against his prostate. He groans, a nasal sound, and his jaw is tight like he’s gritting his teeth. He scrunches up his eyes and tilts his head back, the long line of his throat on display. 

It’s the perfect time for Scott to slip his fingers free, slick up his cock and carefully push in. 

Despite all the prep, Stiles is tight. He clenches against Scott with rhythmic pulses. It takes a lot of self-will not to surge in hard and deep, to be calm and measured. Stiles is hot and wet and Scott wants to rut into him until neither of them can move. He figures Stiles senses this as he rolls his hips down onto Scott’s dick. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me,” Stiles says, opening his eyes again and looking at Scott through his eyelashes. 

“I’m taking my time with it,” Scott replies. “With you.”

But he speeds up, thrusts a little deeper, until Stiles’ body is shifting up against the bedsheets. His hands slide against the sweat-slick of Stiles’ hips, and Stiles’ calf keeps falling off his shoulder, but he loves this position, always has, likes being able to look up and see lazy, warm eyes and an open mouth that keeps curving into a smile. 

“Love you like this,” Scott says, quietly. “Wanna do this forever.”

“You can. It might be frowned on by general society, but I really wouldn’t fucking mind.”

Scott pushes in and draws out time and again, until sweat is dripping down his forehead and Stiles is keening every time he bottoms out. At one point, Scott adjusts until he can kiss Stiles again. The new position is uncomfortable but feels amazing. 

“You want more?” Scott asks. 

Stiles nods vigorously. “Yes, yeah. I wanna feel you for _days._ ”

They’ve done this a few times. It always has Scott’s skin feeling tight, like he’s too large for his body. There’s fire up his spine and liquid in his bones. Stiles is breathing hard, his chest pushing up toward Scott with every inhale. 

Scott falters as he looks for the lube in the folds of the damp sheets. He has to pull out of Stiles completely to find it; it’s fallen to the ground. He folds up the pillow under Stiles’ lower back to hike him higher. He slicks up his cock again, then soaks his fingers with the lube until it’s dripping.

Stiles holds onto his own legs, pulling himself wider, hands behind his knees. He bites his lower lip and watches Scott like he’d admiring a work of art – considering, in awe, and wondering how he can exist in the same space. It makes Scott hot all over. 

He pushes in again, inch by inch, not as slowly as before, but not rapid either. When he’s seated deep inside he starts working at Stiles’ rim with one of his fingers, watching the give of the tight flesh. Stiles is full of him, stuffed, and Scott’s heart jumps at the look and the sensation. He has to be careful about how he pulls out and drives in again. Stiles’ collarbones are showing in stark relief and his blinks are getting slower and slower. Scott adds another finger incrementally and Stiles gusts out a long sigh. 

“So much,” Stiles mumbles.

“Too much?” Scott checks. He glances down and swallows thickly at the sight of Stiles stretched open around his thick cock and two of his fingers, hopes against hope it isn’t hurting. He thinks Stiles would’ve told him, but what if Scott’s been too in the zone to notice the warning signs?

“No, man, you’re like the baby bear of doing me. Just right.”

“I can’t believe you’re referencing one of the few fairytales that doesn’t feature a wolf.”

“Call ‘em as I see’s ‘em, Scotty.” Stiles flexes his hips again and Scott sees how he’s hard and dripping against his abs. 

Scott uses the hand that isn’t playing with his hole to stroke Stiles’ cock, thumbing at the head. Stiles wriggles again, urging Scott to move, so Scott does, canting his hips and stripping Stiles’ cock at the same time. He’s been hard for far too long, is aching, but it’s a pleasurable torture, being wrapped up in Stiles. He can wait however long it takes.

It’s only another couple of thrusts before white ropes of come strike Stiles’ chin and he moans like he’s losing part of himself. The persistent vice-like clenching against Scott’s cock has him coming a moment later. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, even though this is by no means their first time. He thinks it’s the perfect culmination of the day.

He ensures he falls to the side rather than collapsing right on top of Stiles, even though he’s half-insensible. The room has gotten darker as they’ve been fumbling and Scott feels like they’re the only two people in the world. 

Stiles kisses him, soft and sweet, as he moves to the side, out of the mess of them. Scott grabs a tissue from the nightstand, cleans up what he can, then cuddles up to him. 

“Goodnight, my husband,” Scott says, testing out the words. 

“Nghh,” Stiles replies. Then he chuckles, Scott can feel the vibrations while there’s a caress against his jaw. “Sweet dreams, my husband.”


End file.
